


Cleaning House

by jamieaiken919



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamieaiken919/pseuds/jamieaiken919
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick comes over to help John clean up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleaning House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goddammitnicholas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitnicholas/gifts).



> I HAVE RETURNED
> 
> AND I BRING THE SMUTS
> 
> So this fic was a request by my wonderful friend Stephanie (goddammitnicholas), and this has taken me an OBSCENE amount of time to get done. For the same reason most of my other writing has fallen by the wayside, things happened that affected me and my inspiration left me.
> 
> BUT. It is finally done, and I hope with all my heart and soul that Steph (and all the rest of you!) like it! As always, apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors, I typed this out on my phone and may have missed a couple things.
> 
> The usual disclaimers apply, this is one hundred percent fiction, I lay no claims to the people or events played out in this work, and this is written purely for entertainment purposes. And for the enjoyment of my friend.
> 
> HERE WE GO.

"What the hell happened in here?"

Nick sidestepped the piles of clothes and garbage that were strewn all over John's apartment, being careful not to make contact with any of it as he went. John watched as Nick's face turned to one of disgust, feeling embarrassed that his friend had to see his space in such a mess. But with touring, working on their new album, and starting his own projects as well, John didn't see much use in keeping his place clean. Especially when the rest of the guys were the only ones seeing it. He'd forgotten, however, that Nick wasn't like the rest of the guys either.

"Touring happened. Album happened. Life happened, Nicholas." John retorted, as Nick picked up a towel off the back of a chair.

"Life happened with me as well, I didn't let my home go to rubbish."

"Pardon me, I'm so sorry I don't have a pickup crew at my disposal."

"I don't either! I just pick up after myself!" Nick moved from the living area to the kitchen, a noise of disgust echoing back.

"Kitchen's a mess too." John deadpanned, expecting another comment about how dirty his place was.

"I can see that!"

"Are you going to bitch about my bathroom too?"

"No, I'm going to help you clean this mess." Nick reemerged from the kitchen, skirting past John and into his bathroom. Another noise of disgust came from the doorway, one that John just rolled his eyes at. He would've laughed if Nick wasn't being so condescending, but the attitude he was giving him only succeeded in making him annoyed.

"I don't need your help, Nick. I can clean on my own."

"Clearly you do need some help, given how bad you've let this get. I'm doing you a favor, be grateful."

"I don't need your favors!" John yelled after Nick, watching as he exited the front door of his home. He had no idea what Nick was getting from his car, but he was so irritated at that point he didn't care. He stomped into his kitchen and and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, looking at the piles of dishes in the sink and feeling a fleeting moment of guilt at the fact that Nick was ultimately right. He knew he would never be able to get everything done on his own, and he really should have been thankful for the offer of help. But Nick's attitude was wearing on his nerves; there was no need for him to be bitching about the mess that he knew was there.

John slumped down into the only empty chair in his living room, taking a long drink from his beer and wondering where to start on his house. He knew Nick wouldn't be caught dead washing dishes. As he vaguely registered his front door opening and closing, he figured that starting with his clothes would be the best course of action. He turned and expected to see Nick behind him, but when he looked around, he was still alone. He glanced around the room again, thinking that maybe Nick had changed his mind and left, but when he looked out the window and saw his car still there, he got nervous. Nick had a way of pulling out surprises, and they didn't always work out in his favor.

John stood and made his way into the kitchen, looking to see if maybe Nick had gone to the dishes after all, but there was no sign of him in there either. He wasn't in the bathroom, or the hall by the front door, so the only place he had left to look was his bedroom. He wasn't looking forward to hearing the criticism of that one, because that was the room in the biggest amount of disrepair. As he approached the door- he didn't remember closing that?- he heard rustling coming from inside. It sounded almost like a plastic bag, and he figured that must've been what Nick had gotten out of his car. 

John swung the door open, prepared to tell Nick not to throw away any of his things, but before he could utter a word he stopped dead in his tracks. Nick was sat on the edge of John's bed, wearing a ridiculously over the top French maid's costume. The ruffled skirt and apron fanned out over his hips, meeting up with thigh high stockings- the kind that had the little bows adorning the tops. A frilled headpiece was nestled in his hair, the stark white standing out against the mess of teased black. John didn't even want to question where in the hell Nick had gotten the shoes- patent leather high heels with straps that wrapped around his ankles. Nick met his eyes calmly, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, and John could do nothing more than stare at the scene in front of him. 

"Well?" Nick asked, crossing his legs to deliberately show off the stockings and shoes. 

"What... the fuck... why?" John had a hard time finding some sort of coherence left in his mind. He was so dumbfounded that he was left with his mouth hung open, trying to form any kind of words and failing. "Why... where did you... why?"

"I told you I was going to help you clean, didn't I?"

"But... I don't..."

"And it wouldn't be cleaning without the proper attire, would it?"

"I don't understand..."

"Why do you even have this here?" Nick stood and sauntered over to John's desk, picking up a shirt that looked like it belonged to Simon. 

"Don't change the subject. First explain..." He gestured wildly at Nick's outfit, the smirk coming back to the smaller man's face. "...all this to me."

"I did explain. I told you I would help you clean, so here I am."

"And cleaning involves crossdressing for you?"

"Is anything we wear really crossdressing, love?" John could feel what little confidence he had left wavering as Nick walked over to him. He felt himself watching the sway of Nick's hips as he walked, the skirt flowing around with every step. "Especially given our group's history."

"I can't remember any of us ever wearing a getup like that one."

"That's because this is my cleaning outfit, I told you." Nick dangled the shirt out in front of John, looking him dead in the eyes. "Simon's shirt?"

"He was here the other day." John said simply, taking the shirt from Nick's hand and clutching it tight. "He got too drunk to drive so he stayed here. Gave him one of my shirts when he left."

"And you kept his?"

"He just forgot it..." John thought back to the night Simon had stayed over. Yes, they had gotten drunk, but far more had happened than he wanted to admit to Nick. Especially when he couldn't stop staring at Nick's hips in that damn skirt. "Told him I'd wash it for him when I got the chance."

"Or you wanted to keep it so you could have something to remind you he was here?" Nick circled around so that John's back was now facing the bed, and slowly started closing in on the taller man. John instinctively backed up, moving until the backs of his knees hit the bed and falling back with a low 'oof' coming from his throat. "I know how you feel. I've got a shirt that Simon left at my place too. Just from last night, actually. He's a very forgetful man, isn't he?"

John simply nodded, his brain going haywire as he thought about what Nick was saying. He couldn't decide if he was jealous of Nick for having Simon too, or if he was jealous of Simon for getting Nick before he did. Nick brought his body above John's, making him feel extremely small as he leaned back onto the mattress. Nick followed the lead, climbing on top of John and straddling his hips, the skirt falling over top of both of them. He leaned down so that his chest was pressed against John's, his lips hovering just above John's reach. 

"You know, it's funny," Nick said, his breath ghosting over John's face and making his blush. "Simon was the one who helped me clean my place yesterday. And yet he still forgot his shirt. Not very helpful, I don't think."

"What the fuck are you doing to me?" John whispered, getting more and more frustrated by the second. 

"Teasing you."

Nick brought his head down just far enough to brush his lips against John's, the touch so feather light that he wouldn't have been able to feel it if not for every one of his senses being hypersensitive to the moment. Every touch placed against his skin felt like a crackle of his nerves, the feeling of Nick's fingers lingering everywhere they went. Before John could react and press his mouth back against Nick's, the smaller man moved his head down and bit hard at his friends collarbone. John let out a sharp noise, not really pained but not one entirely of pleasure either. His hands fisted in the blanket beneath him, afraid that if he touched Nick it would make him stop what he was doing. He pried his eyes open to stare down at the man pressing his weight down on him, and the shock of black hair was so close he could smell the familiarity of his hairspray and gel. Nick raised his head, as if he sensed John watching him, and his bright green eyes pierced John to the core. 

"Enjoying yourself, Nigel?" The low voice hit John like a brick, the reverberation flowing through his chest. It felt like the words vibrated his entire frame. He could only nod lamely as Nick scooted himself down further on the bed, bringing his fingers to the loops on John's pants and toying with them lightly. "I figured you would enjoy this. You always did have a clothing kink..." Another nod as the black rimmed eyes pierced him again. "Just the same as me... lucky I know how to pick up on subtle hints."

John squirmed as Nick slowly unfastened his pants, the sound of the zip ringing painfully slow in his ears. On instinct he raised his hips, allowing Nick to pull his pants and briefs down with ease. He heard Nick laugh from low in his throat, and his eyes wrenched shut again as the smooth fingers wrapped around his erection, now on full display between them. John could feel his face getting hotter and hotter as he tried to simultaneously remember and forget that this was Nick doing this to him. Nick, who he'd known since they were both ten years old- the two awkward, gangly kids who found kindred spirit in music and in each other.

John felt something slick hit his skin, and his eyes snapped open to see Nick rolling a condom down his length. He opened his mouth to protest, but realized that the precaution on Nick's part was justified given both their track records. He attempted to raise himself up on his elbows to get a better look at what Nick was doing, but his shaking arms gave out as the hand gave one final squeeze around him. Nick crawled back up and straddled John's hips again, the fabric of the skirt and thigh highs creating the strangest friction against John's legs, but one that he found himself loving more by the second. He watched as Nick gathered his skirt in his hands, lifting it far enough to reveal that he was wearing a pair of black lacy panties to complete the outfit.

"Where the fuck did you get those?" John's voice was choked, the syllables getting stuck as his mind malfunctioned. 

"Came with the dress." Nick took one hand and grasped John's length, putting exactly the right amount of pressure on him. John's breath hitched as he watched Nick stroke him slowly, and he attempted to thrust up into the motions to no avail. Nick removed his grip as quickly as he had placed it, and before he could protest, John watched as his friend- lover?- slid up his thighs so that their hips were pressed against one another. The smirk came back to Nick's lips as he moved his body against John, the lace of the panties rubbing between them and making them both hiss at the feeling. "I take it you like them then?"

"I'd like them better off you." John finally found his confidence, and his hands reached up and gripped Nick's hips tightly, forcing the smaller one to push down even harder. John's throat made a sound he didn't know it was capable of as Nick continued to grind against him deliberately slowly. "Fuck me, I want you..."

"So take me, Nigel." Nick slid his way out of John's grip and off the bed entirely, and before John could go after him, he turned his back to the bed and lifted the skirt away from his hips. He hooked his fingers around the edges of the panties, pushing them down and quickly stepping out of them. He moved to push one of the stockings down, but John vehemently shook his head against the pillow.

"Don't! I want..." Nick turned and looked to him, curiously tilting his head to the side. For a second John saw a flash of concern go through Nick's face, and he gave a small smile to him as reassurance. "Leave those on, I want you to leave those on."

"Don't scare me like that." Nick breathed a sigh of relief, readjusting the top of the stocking and turning back to face the bed. He let the skirt fall back down, covering the one part of his body John had yet to see. "I wasn't about to walk out of here in the state I'm in."

"I wouldn't let you leave after you did this to me." John's confidence flared as he reached up to grasp Nick's wrist, pulling him down on top of his body once again. But as quickly as that confidence came, it disappeared, as Nick pinned his wrists to the mattress in one swift motion. "You better make good on this now that you've got me worked up."

"I'm still laying on top of you, aren't I?" Nick's eyes narrowed as John tried to stutter a response, and with a slow grind of his hips he silenced his bandmate entirely. "If I let go of your wrists, you will take hold of my hips, and make sure that I can move when I need to. Understand?"

John nodded, and Nick pressed a chaste kiss to his nose before sitting back against his thighs. Again, Nick wrapped a hand around John's length, and the taller let out a pathetic moan at the lightness of the pressure. John tentatively brought his hands up, grasping Nick's hips and pulling him forward. As he moved, he deliberately allowed his hardness to brush against John's, both men gasping at the feeling. Keeping his light grip, Nick rose up on his knees, positioning himself directly over John's hips. John's fingers ventured downward, gathering up the skirt and pushing it slowly up Nick's thighs. His breath caught as he kept moving the fabric, the sight of the pale skin making his heart race.

"Ready?"

Nick's voice shocked John out of his daze, and he simply nodded an affirmation that he wanted this to happen. Nick's head lowered, the hint of a smile pulling up the corners of his lips, and he moved slowly, the feel of his skin against the plastic of the condom making a friction that drove them both insane. He pushed down, and John grabbed his hips on instinct, helping him balance as he continued to push. Both of their bodies were shaking, and as Nick finally rested flush against his hips, the both took pause to allow the other to adjust. John closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of being inside Nick- he'd had sex probably hundreds of times, but nothing had ever felt like this. Nick's hands hit his chest, and John blindly reached up until he felt hair, pulling him down into a hard kiss. The sound from Nick's throat didn't escape his hearing, and he opened his eyes to see Nick's still shut, his mouth hung open and his shallow breaths hitting his face. 

"Alright?" John asked, the word coming out in a rough whisper. Nick nodded, opening his eyes and fixing John with a pointed stare.

"Wouldn't have done it if I wasn't alright." His voice was low and cut John straight to the core. "Move me."

The command shook John's nerves, and he tightly grasped Nick's hips once again, preparing himself to feel the friction against his body. He nudged Nick's hips upwards, his eyes wrenching shut again as they both adjusted to that feeling. Nick's hands held tight to John's arms, the grip giving him enough leverage to move himself. Still, John did most of it, pulling Nick's hips up achingly slowly and controlling himself the best he could. He already knew how he wanted to see Nick come, and he had to make sure he did everything right in order to see it.

Nick began to push himself back down, snapping John out of his thoughts again as he started to move faster against him. John moved his hands from the sides of Nick's hips around to his backside, gripping tightly and hearing a hiss of air escape from his lips. This was completely different than any other experience he'd ever had, and he wanted it to be the best he could make of it. On instinct John pushed his hips up to meet Nick's, and the feel of them moving together was almost too much. John held back from going as fast as he wanted to, letting Nick keep setting the pace he wanted. When exactly he had relinquished all control over to his friend he didn't know, but it felt too good for him to care. 

The pace that Nick set was getting faster and harder, and as he leaned down to bring himself closer to John's face again, John took one hand and grasped the black hair in front of him. He kissed Nick hard as they moved against one another, wanting to keep their bodies as close as he possibly could. John could feel his stomach spiraling, the heat overtaking his body as Nick's fingers dug into his arms. Their hips slammed against one another, both of them mumbling incoherent words and groans into the others mouth as they ran closer and closer to the edge. John's head went light, his body started shaking, and he grabbed Nick's hips bruisingly tight as he felt himself tipping into release. His whole body spasmed as he came, holding the man above him still as he rode out the length of his orgasm. 

Before he fully recovered or even knew what he was doing, John rolled Nick over onto his back, pinning his shoulders and staring him down. The green eyes were bright and wide as they stared back, the smaller not knowing what to expect.

"Your turn."

John pulled himself gently from Nick's body, quickly disposing of the spent condom before pushing the skirt up and away from his hips. Without warning he leaned down, taking Nick's length in his hand and wrapping his lips around the head. Nick yelled out what sounded like a curse as his hands smacked against John's hair, the sound only making John work faster. He felt the hips beneath him thrusting up into his hand, and using his free hand to keep the skirt up and out of the way, kept his mouth still as Nick came to release. The salty heat hit the back of his throat, and he held Nick still as his back arched off the bed, the noises like a drug as he enjoyed the taste.

Nick lay on the bed, sweating and panting and sounds that were trying to form words coming from his throat. John simply watched as he sat back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he too caught his breath. He had no idea how the events over the past hours had come to pass, but as he met the eyes of his bandmate, he really didn't care. And he certainly wasn't complaining.

"Should probably get you out of that..." John's voice was raw as he spoke, and Nick could only nod as he sat up. They worked together to remove the dress, stockings and shoes, both of their bodies feeling like jelly as they moved. The hairpiece had gotten knocked loose, and he made a mental note to find it later. "I'll get it cleaned for you. Dry cleaning."

"How will you explain it?" Nick could speak no louder than a whisper as he collapsed back onto the mattress, John following close behind.

"Won't matter. Say a friend left it behind. Found it while cleaning."


End file.
